The Story of Zakuro, The Demon of Konaha
by The Mute Bard
Summary: Story of epic proportions. Zakuro grows up in the strangest of circumstances, makes the strangest of friends, goes on the wildest of missions. and finally meets a challenge the likes of which have never before been seen!
1. Chapter 1

The Story of Zakuro

Standard disclaimer:

I do not own Naruto, however I do own all original characters. I put a lot of work into creating these people, so don't steal them.

It was a cold and cloudy morning in the as the sun cast a reddish hue to the dawn sky. The spring cherry blossoms were covered with a thin layer of frost and the air was silent with a stillness that can drive a man mad. A crow ruffled his feathers and flew from his roost on a small branch as the silence was suddenly broken with a female cry of pain that pierced the cold air inside the Hyuuga compound like a kunai. The soft crying of a newborn baby quickly followed, but faded in less than a minute. The head of the family stirred from his morning meditation and sighed.

"So, the bastard's finally born, eh?"

He rose slowly and left his mat to walk on into his office to prepare to attend to the matter of decreeing what would be done to the now newborn baby.

Hyuuga Hanada looked at her new son and smiled.

"Zakuro, that's what I shall name you. My sisters have had a total of eight sons, you shall be known as the ninth son. I shall protect you and do my best to make you a shining star of the Hyuuga clan."

At that moment Hiashi Hyuuga opened the door and was blocked by a Konaha midwife. He roughly brushed the midwife aside and inserted a small amount of gentle fist while he was at it. The hapless midwife collapsed ten feet away and feebly coughed up a thick, viscous blob of blood. Hiashi gazed at Hanada with cold, pupil-less white eyes as she tried to shield her infant with her body.

"Hyuuga Hanada, the elders and I have decided that the child's life shall be spared, as he is innocent of any crimes and you are the true sinner here today. Furthermore, we are also agreed that your life shall be spared, at least for a while, as no self-respecting Hyuuga would raise your bastard. However the Hyuuga bloodline must be kept pure, so as punishment for this flagrant violation of our laws, you are sentenced to be put to death in ten years. Additionally, your son will have the branch seal upon his forehead, and your byakugan is to be sealed away from your use with a permanent sealing jutsu. Do not speak now, for this is decided. Anything you might say could only make it harder for yourself. It is too late to help your case by telling us who the father is now. At this point, we really don't care. The final decision has been made."

Hiashi turned abruptly and left the room to return to a cold stillness marked only by the soft gasping of the wounded midwife and the hiss of the wind through the open door. This speech was the last time that Hiashi would talk to Hanada for the rest of her life.

Although she had been his favorite cousin, almost as close as the sister he never had. She had broken the most unforgivable rule of the Hyuugas. She had taken a lover and conceived a child without the approval of the elders. The elders generally traced the lineage and bloodline of any potential mate for a Hyuuga to ensure that the cherished Byakugan would remain unchanged and a permanent part of the Hyuuga clan. It was on this powerful eye bloodline trait that the Hyuugas had become the most powerful and influential clan in Konoha. While there had never been a Hyuuga Hokage, it was common knowledge among Jonin that title of Hokage rested upon the approval and blessing of the Hyuuga elders.

Hanada had taken a secret lover and become with child. She had refused to take the herbs to terminate the life growing within her, but she also refused to reveal the identity of the father. Only her close relationship to Hiashi had spared her life at the hands of the elders. They felt indignant by her secrecy. They assumed that the father must have been from a weak or disgraced family. The truth was far worse. She had taken to bed a man with short spiky hair, a pointed face and nose, and red eyes with three bars in each one. An Uchiha! She had committed an extreme crime.

The union of the two eye bloodlines of Konoha could create a new bloodline and competition for the title for strongest clan. The Hyuugas did not want someone starting a new clan with a special bloodline in the city that they so completely controlled. Another concern was that both bloodlines came with the potential for mental instability.

Combining the two bloodlines could create an incredibly powerful person with a potential for mental instability far exceeding that possessed by either individual clan. Hanada felt sure that her son could not become a monster, but she knew that it would be impossible to convince the elders. So silence was the only option. Silence had paid off now. She had ten years to train him, make sure he was as wise as he was strong, and to avoid all strong emotions as they could lead to the breakdown of his mind due to the combination of bloodlines. So, she had ten years to make him a man. Ten years to save his life, for then, hers would end. She must not waste any time. She had to ensure that he could defend himself after she was gone. She had to do her best to instill a caring mindset in him, but with the Uchiha blood, would it be possible? Oh well, there was nothing to do now but just wait and see. She held her baby close to her breast and they both drifted off to sleep. The training would have to start soon, but now was the time for love.

This is the first chapter of an epic work. I will submit a new chapter about once a week for the next few months until the epic conclusion. Please submit reviews. The plot is set in my head, but I would gladly accept suggestions on writing style and details.


	2. Chapter 2

When Zakuro turned two years old, Hanada took him out to one of the Hyuugas' training grounds. There were several post standing in the ground with straw filled mannequins tied to them. She then gave Zakuro his birthday present.

"Zakuro, I know that you won't be going to the ninja academy for six more years, but it is vital that you begin your training as soon as possible. That is why I am giving these shuriken. You are to practice throwing these for at least half an hour every day from now until you enter the academy."

Zakuro gleefully reached into the basket of ninja stars and started tossing them at the various targets, but they all went off in random directions and with no seeming order to their travel.

"No, no, no! Practice is not just doing something repeatedly. If you were to do this for the next fourteen hundred days, you would be no better at it than you are now. True practice is to throw one while paying careful attention to how you throw it. Notice how it flies, where it goes, and the path it takes. Does it go strait to the target? Does it rise into the air and descend to the target? Does it curve in from the side? And always see if it hits. These are eight sided practice shuriken; they will stick well in the targets, but would not do much real damage in a fight. In the academy, you will use real weapons, with only 4 points. They will do more damage, but the principle of throwing will remain the same."

Zakuro nodded with the seriousness that looked comical on his childish face. After some practice and careful observation, he saw that when throwing a shuriken horizontally he needed to quickly snap his wrist, but when throwing them over his shoulder he had to keep his wrist straight. He begged his mother to let him stay to practice for more than thirty minutes, but she only gave him an extra fifteen minutes.

"This practice may seem fun, but it is still training, my little Zakuro-kun. If you practice for too long at first, you will be sore tomorrow. It will take time to build up the necessary endurance to do this for hours on end. Now, let's go for a run, neh?

"Hai, let's run run run!"

The days turned into months and the months turned into years. By the age of five, Zakuro became proficient with throwing shuriken over the shoulder and with the sideways wrist snap. Thrown horizontally, he could even make them curve in from the side. He and his mother would go running everyday. At first they only ran a mile or less, but by the age of five, they were doing two laps around the city of Konaha every day, a staggering ten mile run. He would do fifty chin-ups, one hundred jumping jacks, and fifty pushups everyday before breakfast. His life was devoted to training to become a shinobi. From the moment he woke up to when his mother would tuck him into bed, everything was part of training. He even had to practice dodging his mother's attacks whenever he ate.

On his fifth birthday, Hanada began to instruct Zakuro in the art of the kunai.

"The throwing of a kunai is a more exacting task than that of a shuriken. The range and damage that it can inflict is also increased. While you have graduated to using four pointed shurikens, a kunai only has one point."

"I know that, Mother!"

"Ah, but have your realized that as a kunai spins in the air, it will only strike every four quarter turns instead of each one."

"That much is obvious."

"Indeed, you are no moron, obviously."

"Hn."

"So, my little Zakuro, the kunai must be thrown from a certain distance, with the kunai making a half turn each arms length. Therefore, you must learn to throw the kunai from the handle and the point; and you must be able to accurately judge the distance between you and your target, and throw from the appropriate end accordingly. You must be able to do this instantly and without hesitation, for in the moment that you hesitate, you may die!"

"But there's no pressure here, right Mother?"

"Sarcasm does not become you, ninth son."

"So, I have to be able to throw these kunai, but isn't there more to them than that?"

"That's right, my child. There is much more to them. A kunai can be used as a slashing or stabbing weapon. Properly used, they are a highly lethal weapon. But even that is not their true purpose."

"Nani? Then what is their true purpose."

"Zakuro, remember this if you forget everything else about the kunai. A kunai is a tool to protect yourself and those you defend. Kunai are not a true offensive weapon. You teachers in the ninja academy will tell you different. They will think that a kunai is the staple for a ninja offense. But the truth is that kunai are designed as a means to defend yourself in a last ditch effort. The blade can be used to block and parry attacks, and the ring at the end of the handle is designed to trap arrows and bladed weapons. I want you to emphasize that aspect of a kunai in your fighting style. Attack with you strongest or fastest weapons and jutsus. Defend with your kunai. If you can counterattack with you kunai, that is a plus, but defense is your main use for them."

Zakuro spent his fifth year focusing on kunai and shuriken throwing while moving. He finally was able to hit his targets from any distance, using whichever weapon fit the distance. The time flew quickly and Zakuro would later look on those times as the period that he was happiest.

The training in traditional Hyuuga style taijustsu began in earnest during Zakuro's sixth year. The training in stamina truly paid off as he was tasked with mastering the basic stances, strikes, and blocks in a very short time.

The stances gave way to forms and sequences, also called kata.

The strikes gave way to combos and chains of combos. Despite his failure to insert chakra in his hands in the typical Hyuuga gentle fist style. The tenketsu that disrupted chakra when attacked also served as pressure points to cause seizing of the joints and muscles when attacked with greater force. Zakuro began to call his style the "Firm Fisted" style, as he had to attack with significantly more strength than the typical Hyuuga to damage his target. This also slowed down somewhat the traditionally lightning fast Hyuuga style, and despite his best efforts, he always seemed to come in second to any sparring partner.

The blocks gave way to parries, which gave way to counters. His mother said, "Why simply stop my attack when you can redirect it to give you an opening for a counterattack? Why parry and not take advantage of the opening? And why should you not take the counterattack and use it as the starting point for a combo attack of your own?" This style of countering allowed Zakuro to always advance toward his opponent. Even if the opponent took the offensive, his style allowed for him to reverse the flow of the battle and guide it in his favor. By his seventh birthday, he could take an attack and counter it into a sixteen hit combo counter attack. He could take a blocked attack and use the force of the opponents block or parry to push forward with an even deadlier attack.

When Zakuro turned seven, his mother took him out to the courtyard where a table had been set up with a variety of weapons laid out upon it. As he gazed on the rows of shiny and pointy objects of various shapes and sizes, his mother began to speak.

"I have decided that to compensate for your slower speed, you will take up a weapon. There are a variety of swords, daggers, kamas, nunchuckas and chain based weapons to choose from."

Zakuro looked at the wealth of weapons and slowly walked around the table.

"I want a sword, but I don't want anything that will be cumbersome or slow. I want to be able to defend readily and make use of my counter-attacking style even when armed. What sword best does that?"

"The sword you want is either a wakizashi or a kodachi. They are both short swords that lend themselves well to fast attacks and still allow you to be able to block an edged weapon. When duel wielded, they can create a wall of steel to shield you and allow you to push your opponent to his destruction. They are usually either used as a single weapon or in conjunction to the slower but stronger katana, however."

Zakuro looked at the blades and picked up what looked to be a short wooden tube about twenty-eight inches long. When he pulled at both ends, he unsheathed twin straight-bladed kodachis from the tube. The handles blended in with the sheath to give the appearance of a single stick of wood. "I'll take these" he said.


	3. Chapter 3

Although his blades were first dipped in a clear resin that dulled them, they were still somewhat dangerous and Zakuro became

Although his blades were first dipped in a clear resin that dulled them, they were still somewhat dangerous and Zakuro became no stranger to pain during the ensuing year. His training was vigorous, and his muscles seemed to always be sore. He learned how to use his hand to hand style with the sword strapped to his back. After getting used to the heft of it, then he learned the basic forms for using one in his right hand. After about three months of training, he finally began wielding a blade in his left hand, but his right hand was then empty. As time progressed, he was gradually learned to use both blades simultaneously. The first step was to use mirror image style hand movements, where each blade mirrors the other's movement. Then Zakuro learned to stagger his movements by a step, so that his left hand followed the movements of his right. Finally he learned to keep his hands truly independent of each other so that he could attack and counter multiple opponents with near unpredictability.

As he approached his eight birthday, Zakuro began to notice that he seemed to see things that he shouldn't be able to. Somehow, even when his mother was attacking from behind him, not only could he sense her through instinct and sound, he seemed to actually see her. It was a strange kind of seeing though, all colors seemed to be reversed and she glowed with a complex pattern of blue. After the sparring session was over, he asked his mother about what he had seen.

"Ah, the byakugan has finally manifested itself!" she exclaimed. This is what makes our family special among the clans. We are the only ones able to see all around us at all times. Our gentle hand school is built around this ability. It also enables us to see the tenketsu that we hit to disrupt chakra flow."

"I can see your chakra, but I don't see any tenketsu mother."

"Are you sure? Maybe you don't realize what you see is the tenketsu. It should look like a brighter region of chakra along the chakra lines, maybe even as a sort of knot on a string."

"The lines are all blurred together, they seem to be moving around and I can't focus on any individual one. The entire system is one giant blur of chakra to my eyes."

"Hmm, this must be because your father wasn't of the clan. Your byakugan may not be as developed as a member of the main house or the branch. The ability to see greater distances is something that takes practice, but we usually can naturally see the tenketsu."

"Mother, who is my father?" Zakuro asked.

"I am bound by family law to not tell you. However, I can tell you that he is dead, killed in the attack by the Nine Tailed Demon Fox when you were four years old. We lost many good ninja in that battle. Someday, you may learn his identity on your own."

The unanswered question quickly faded to the recesses of Zakuro's mind, as he drilled constantly on his empty hand form and duel-wielding blade form, as well as learning to use his byakugan to assist him in the perfection of these styles. The byakugan was an instinctive aspect of the Hyuuga clan that awakened naturally during intense physical training. The ability to activate and stop the byakugan was as natural as opening and closing ones own eyes. However, there were aspects of the skill that required training and practice. At first the ability to see objects that his normal eyes could see would cause him to become dizzy and disoriented. It felt weird to have a blindfold tied around his eyes and still be able to see around him as he practiced katas and hand to hand combat. His field of view extended beyond the normal 120 degrees of normal human vision, but lacked the traditional 360 degrees of the pureblooded Hyuugas. His vision instead spanned a field of roughly 300 degrees. This left a larger blind spot to contend with, while still giving him an advantage over regular ninjas.

At the age of eight, Zakuro, like the other prospective ninja children entered the ninja academy. The academy emphasized many aspects of the ninja lifestyle. There were classes on basic teamwork and many field trips where the students were to spot instructors as they hid in various ambush positions. Zakuro did well on these, as well as the history lessons, but some of the studies bored him. The seminars on the physics of thrown weapons and the applications for melee weapons seemed a total waste to him, as he was receiving similar training at home. However, the classes in chakra control and the formation of seals and jutsu were immensely interesting to him. The thought that one could destroy an opponent from a distance without being at risk for immediate physical harm appeared very alluring to him.

There were classes for every possible type of ninja mission: escort, assassination, kidnap (or rendition as the instructors referred to it), spying, ambush, and even total warfare and destruction of enemy bases. Zakuro studied intensely for the tests for these classes, but constantly came in second to a young boy named Hiro, Toranaga Hiro. Hiro was from a clan of sword specialist samurai who had recently come to Konaha. There were stories that they possessed a bloodline limit to rival the Hyuuga's and the Uchiha's, but other than his incredible mind for tactics, Zakuro could not seem to find one in him.

The time at the ninja academy passed quickly. A ninja was eligible to take the Genin exam at the end of every year spent at the academy, but most students waited for their third or fourth year before taking the exam. The students were advised to place an emphasis on a different aspect of training each year at the academy. Zakuro decided to spend his first year perfecting his chakra seals and would practice constantly during recess to improve the speed at which he could change from one hand seal to another in any combination.

At the same time, his training at home did not let up. Although he had less time to train at home, he still practiced standard Hyuuga taijustu and his own variant of it using twin kotachi to extend his reach and make up for his blind spot. As his schooling at the academy lasted from eight in the morning till three in the afternoon, Zakuro would do his running and taijustu practice before school, and practice his swordsmanship after school. By the age of nine, he had reduced his time spend practicing thrown weapons to a mere twenty minutes a day before going to bed.

It was during one of these practice sessions with his kunai that he received his first scar. The sun was setting and it was getting too dark to see the target clearly. Zakuro tried to use his byakugan to see the target, but he was so exhausted that he could not see the training post well without chakra flowing through it. Sighing, he placed a drop of oil on each of his kunai, wiped them down with a silk rag and placed them in his kunai pouch. As he was rising to go to bed, his byakugan detected a shimmer of blue chakra coming at him swiftly. He turned just in time to receive a kunai driven into his right arm. A mere moments difference in his turn and the blade would have plunged into his back and possible pierced his lung. Zakuro flexed his knees and jumped up and away, wincing as the blade carved a long upside down J shape on his upper arm. As he landed on the roof of the compound and settled in a traditional Hyuuga battle stance with his wounded side away from the direction of the attacker, he searched for signs of the next attack. Even by straining out the last vestiges of his chakra into his byakugan, Zakuro could not detect any chakra signatures within the twenty yard range of his bloodline eyes.

After several minutes searching for any signs of hostility, Zakuro went to his room and bandaged his bleeding arm. He then decided to report this attack to the head of the clan. As he approached the main building he noticed the disdain in the eyes of the guard that looked upon him. "State your business with Hiashi, you cur!" the guard demanded.

"Sir, there has been an attack upon the Hyuuga compound, Lord Hiashi must be informed immediately!"

"Wait here." The guard replied.

Zakuro leaned against the doorframe and heard muffled voices discussing the matter rapidly.

"What do you mean he's still alive? He's not even a Genin yet, how hard could it be?" Zakuro distinctly recognized the voice as Hiashi's. "Ok, just shoo him off for now, we'll figure a way to dispose of him later."

The guard stepped back out to the entrance and said "Hiashi says that any intruders have been taken care off, please be off now." After saying so, however, he realized that Zakuro was nowhere to be seen. "Not my problem" he thought to himself and went back to sitting on his chair next to the entrance and drinking sake occasionally from a small canteen he hid in his shuriken pouch.

Zakuro had hurried back to his room and packed up his ninja tools and bedroll. After briefly looking around his small room he took his pack and bounded out of the room. He paused briefly outside of the Hyuuga compound walls and set to rest. He knew that it was no longer safe to stay in the Hyuuga compound, but he did not know where to go. He decided to spend the night at the Konaha war memorial and quickly wrote a note to his mother telling her that he had decided to go camping that night. Instead of jumping the wall again to deliver the message, he simply tied it to a kunai and threw it over the wall. At the apex of the flight, he sent another kunai that hit the first one and diverted it to hit the floor outside his mother bedroom. This accomplished, he left for the memorial.

The next morning before, Zakuro went to the city hall where the Hokage's office was. Without explaining the specifics, he asked the Third Hokage to provide him with village housing with the understanding that he would pay back the rent one he became a Genin. The Third was an understanding sort, and not prone to asking embarrassing questions. He was accustomed to receiving such requests from time to time, often from young Kunaichi who had gotten pregnant and were run out of their homes. Looking at Zakuro's disheveled appearance and his bloody bandage, the Third figured that Zakuro's reasons were just as valid.

"The village will put you up in a one-room apartment and include a food and clothing stipend. This is to be paid back in installments upon completion of your academy graduation. I will assign a Special Jonin Instructor to check up on you from time to time and make sure you keep out of trouble. Oh, and one other thing."

"What is it Hokage?" Zakuro asked, puzzled at the old man's hesitation to finish this "other thing".

"I would prefer that you avoid your next door neighbor if you can, he's got enough problems as it is without you bringing yours."

"Hai, I understand Sandaime, I shall keep to myself."

After school, Zakuro went and moved into his new apartment, and saw that the kitchen was stocked with a small boiler, some milk in the fridge, and enough Raman to last him a month.

"Sheesh, I hate this stuff!" Zakuro grumbled to himself. "But at least it's free for now. I am going to have to get myself some salads though."

"You hate Raman?" a loud, annoying, and did I mention very loud voice cried out from right behind him. Zakuro turned quickly around and formed a defensive stance, while silently cursing himself for letting his guard down. Then he relaxed slightly, for in front of him was a six your old boy with totally untrained spiky yellow hair and wearing the most ridiculous orange uniform he had ever seen. It hurt his eyes just to look at that orange. This guy had almost as bad taste in clothes as that annoying taijustu instructor from the academy who was always wearing a too tight green jumpsuit.

"What are you doing in my apartment" Zakuro asked in a very peeved voice.

"The door was unlocked, well it was after I picked it with a shuriken anyway." the brat in orange proudly exclaimed, while holding up a shuriken that had been bent into some rather unusual shapes. "But that's not important right now. The real issue here is your dislike of Raman! How is that even possible? Raman is the force that holds the universe together! Raman makes me happy. I love Raman in every flavor! There's chicken, beef, shrimp, fish, and my favorite, miso pork!"

"I just don't like it, it's too salty. Wait, why did you pick my lock? What are you doing here? Tell me know our I'm going to hurt you." Zakuro repeated himself, feeling increasingly annoyed as a headache formed and started pounding in time with each of the orange clad menace's words.

" Um, well, I live next door, so I guess you're my new neighbor. I just wanted to say hi, and then I head you say you didn't like Raman. How is that possible? Oh, and my name's Naruto, Uzimaki Naruto. I'm gonna be Hokage someday!"

"Ok, pleasure to meet you Naruto. My name is Zakuro, Hyuuga Zakuro. I'm gonna be a murderer today if you don't leave right now." Zakuro growled as the latest barrage from the orange-clad, hyperactive, annoying kid send his head into pulsating misery.

"Oh well, I'll be going now, see ya!" Naruto yelled as he jumped out the window and bounded off down the street, hopping from roof to awning to street back to roof as he faded into the distance.

Zakuro did three things that day before he went to bed. He boarded up his window so that only the slightest bit of sunlight entered, he put two extra deadlocks on his door, making sure that they were ones that only the best of locksmiths could pick, and he went through his apartment and made absolutely sure that nothing orange was anywhere to be seen.

As he drifted off to sleep, the pain behind his eyes seemed to be worse than that of his still healing arm.

"I'm going to have to find somewhere else to be as much as possible", he thought to himself, "someplace where it is quite and totally free of that kid."


	4. Chapter 4

Life alone was little different from living in the Hyuuga compound for young Zakuro. His mother had grown distant as of late anyway, so Zakuro was no stranger to solitude and the necessities of caring for himself. Salads became his daily lunch, with usually nothing but a glass of juice and a boiled egg for breakfast. There was a cafeteria for public usage provided by the village, and the Hokage had granted him open access to it, with the understanding that he would pay back for all his consumption. There is no such thing as a free lunch, and Zakuro knew better than to see his current condition as a free ride. His morning routine continued almost unchanged, his morning exercise regimen simply moved from the Hyuuga's branch house courtyard to one of the many public training grounds on the outskirts of the village. His lessons at the academy progressed well, but he remained a loner. He really had not desire to be around the other students, and they avoided him like the plague as rumors spread about how he was an outcast from one of the most powerful families in Konaha. Word had already gotten out about the attempt on his life, and none of the other academy students seemed interested in getting involved.

One evening a few days after moving into his new place, a knock came on the door. Zakuro opened the door with his left hand, while channeling as much chakra into his right palm. He intended to educate that annoying blond-haired, loudmouthed brat on the imprudence of continually bothering him. His hand never traveled more than three inches. A Jonin with a scarred, but friendly, face stood in front of him. "Hi, I'm Iruka, I've been assigned to keep watch over Naruto, and the Hokage thought I should look in on you too.

"Hnn, ok." was all the reply Iruka received. Zakuro left the door open and walked in to kitchen and poured two glasses of water straight from the faucet. He placed the glasses at the table in the dining room and sat down at the chair. Gesturing at the other chair, he waited for Iruka to seat himself.

"You are a child of few words. That's not a problem. I'll just talk enough for the both of us!" Iruka exclaimed with a nervous laugh.

Zakuro stared at him, raised one eyebrow with a quizzical look, and set his glass down. The staring continued. The silence became so think and tense than one could walk on it.

"Heh, you really are a quite one! Do you have any questions or requests? Or are all your needs currently met?" Iruka asked tentatively.

The silence continued, but Zakuro slow shifted in his seat from leaning back lazily, to leaning forward to a hunched over posture, his face nearly touching the glass on the table in front of him. Placing one finger on the rim of the glass and slowly running it around in circles, he began to speak. Iruka himself had to lean forward to hear his words.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is one thing." The silence returned, as Zakuro raised his eyes and searched Iruka's face for any sign of recognition. Iruka returned Zakuro's gaze with his own rendition of the single raised eyebrow. Zakuro took his cue to continue.

"You're right, I am quite. I like it like that. That kid next door isn't. The Hokage says I'm not allowed to kill him, so I need someplace to go when I'm not training where it is quite."

Iruka tried in vain to keep a straight face at the thought of Zakuro killing Naruto simply because he was loud. "Well, there's always the village library. You could read there I suppose, Not only is it quite, it's also the last place I'd expect Naruto to ever go."

"Really now? That sounds great, thank you Iruka." Zakuro stood up and walked into his bedroom and began to put some spiral notebooks in his backpack. Donning the backpack, he walked to the door and paused. Turning to the still seated Iruka, he stared and leaned back against the door facing. After a few minutes Iruka took the hint and said his goodbyes and left. Zakuro followed him out and closed and locked the door in one smooth motion.

Zakuro would come to spend the majority of his free time in the Konaha library for the following years. He started out by reading the history scrolls of Konaha and the major clans. A surprising amount of information about the unique skills and bloodline abilities was available for reading in the library, but what Zakuro really found interesting were the numerous scrolls on combat techniques. Every non-bloodline taijustu style and all A-ranked and below ninjutsus and genjustus were easily accessible. As Zakuro felt that the Hyuuga taijustu was superior to all others, he paid little attention to the taijustu scrolls, and instead focused on trying to learn as much as he could about the ninjustu and genjustus techniques. He started by grouping techniques by their purpose: offensive, defensive, and capture. He personally detested the thought of capturing an enemy when you could kill him, and felt that the best defense was a good offense, so he decided to focus on offensive type jutsus. In addition, he felt that his skills as a hand to hand and melee short sword fighter would serve him well in close quarters combat, so he began to search for information on jutsus that would increase his effectiveness at longer ranges and involving larger areas.

Over the course of time, Zakuro refined many attacks and became quite adapt at using both basic fire and water jutsu, and even came up with ways to combine them together to create very nasty attacks. On day, while relaxing at the local hot springs bath after a long day of training, he noticed how the steam worked just as well as a mist or fog to obstruct one's view, and contained a great deal of heat energy as well. From this realization of a very simple and obvious phenomenon, he created a incredibly painful justsu. By combining a water-mist justu and then sending a fire blast into it, he could create an instant steam attack that would cover a very large territory and be fairly painful in the process. He refined this attack to the point that by the time he graduated the genin exams, he could cast the jutsu as one attack, a steaming water mist that was almost impossible to escape, and that was capable of delivering third degree burns on unprotected skin in an amazingly short amount of time. By using one hand to form water-based seals, and the other to form fire seals, he had created a new technique which he called the "steam fog of terror." This jutsu, which would probably be classified as a B ranked jutsu, was not the totality of his new skills however. Zakuro remembered from his early training among the Hyuugas that the best attacks involved layers upon layers, thus, he also learned a simple jutsu that coated his body with cool water, and would temporarily protect him from fire attacks, and the burning effects of his own steam fog. Using his Byukagan, despite it's reduced range, he was now able to see any opponent trapped in such a fog and not have to worry as much about being taken off guard from behind. His taijutsu speed also became less of an issue when employing such a device, as he would be able to attack while remaining basically unseen. The demonstration of this chain of techniques (which he had kept a secret from the other academy students) at the graduation ceremony resulted in instant promotion to genin, as well as sending several nearby students to the Konaha hospital for several days. After a stern warning from the academy instructors, he was sent home for the day and told that he would be summoned by his new team captain the next morning. "Get a good night's sleep Zakuro! You're gonna need it, you poor bastard." The instructor told him as they parted ways for the last time.

Coming up next time (which will probably be a while) Zakuro meets his new team mates… And his new team captain! Find out why the academy instructor felt sorry for him!


End file.
